


hallowed be thy name

by churrosim



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (for a reason!), Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Ending, Body Horror, Brainwashing, Descent into Madness, M/M, Mind Control, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, Persona 5 Protagonist Has A Palace, Persona 5 Protagonist Needs a Hug, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, akira is not doing okay, based off of p5 vanilla's bad end, help akira please, major character death is only for goro, neither is goro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25807567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/churrosim/pseuds/churrosim
Summary: “...Very well. It’s a deal.” A voice, begrudging and vulnerable, weak and broken by grief, echoed through the silent room.“There is no need to be ashamed. I shall grant you that wish.”A sinister chuckle, and it all went black.-Akechi wakes up in Leblanc, after his death. The sky was colored with blood, and Akira had completely vanished. Everyone else had become nothing but puppets for the God of Control, all except for Goro Akechi.He's the only one who can do anything about this corrupted reality, and he doesn't intend on wasting his chance.(based on vanilla p5's bad ending)
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Lavenza, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	1. say hello, honey i'm home

**Author's Note:**

> chapter title comes from honey, i'm home by ghost and pals (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHffjNbWmig) , it was too perfect to not use here tbh

_ “...Very well. It’s a deal.” A voice, begrudging and vulnerable, weak and broken by grief, echoed through the silent room.  _

_ “There is no need to be ashamed. I shall grant you that wish.”  _

_ A sinister chuckle, and it all went black.  _

-

An odd, red-colored light bleed in through the windows of Leblanc’s attic, dancing across closed eyelids that eventually flutter open. 

Maroon eyes surveyed the area closely, familiarity tugging at him. 

If this was an afterlife, Goro Akechi already didn’t like it. 

And if this wasn’t, that would honestly be worse. 

Because Goro Akechi was dead. He died on that ship, and he knows it.  But despite the fact that he knew he was dead, he stopped breathing on that ship, his instincts were telling him that he was, in fact, alive.  The gentle rise-and-fall of his chest was proof enough that he was once again among the living. 

Which made this sudden awakening all the more confusing- dead people don’t just simply wake up in the attic of their rival. 

And the sky wasn’t usually this color, was it? 

Akechi found himself tangled up in old, dirtied sheets on a cheap bed. Akira’s bed. 

He struggled to throw the surplus of fabric from his body, taking note of how shaky his limbs were.  His fingers trembled the most intensely as he observed them quietly. He could make a few guesses as to what was happening to him, perhaps his reanimated corpse was simply not used to being alive again. He scoffed at how weak his body was deciding to act. 

The next thing, he noticed, was the gaping hole in his chest.  Goro dimly remembered feeling the bullet enter his chest before.. well, nothing.  It was a memory he didn’t exactly enjoy reliving.

But bullet wounds weren’t usually this large, the results weren’t this grotesque. His ribcage was partially exposed, cold air hitting his flesh in a way that was massively uncomfortable. His heart was thankfully still trapped behind a few more layers of tissue, but he could see the organ pulsating against his flesh whenever he glanced down at it. Veins and blood vessels hung out from the edges of the wound, tangling up in the string-like tendons of his ravaged muscles, and it looked like something clawed had torn at his chest with wild abandon. It was almost nauseating to look down at the wholly disgusting mess that was formerly his own body. 

None of it was painful, despite the blood trickling from the wound like sand in an hourglass. He even stuck a hand into the wound despite his better judgment, the horrid squelching sound of his ruined chest causing him to wince.  The shaking of his fingers caused an odd sensation, but not a single jolt of pain. Only mild discomfort and intense disgust once he removed his hand, now covered in blood and stringy tissue. The blood continued to seep from the wound and stain his already ruined clothing, not even beginning to coagulate like how a human’s should. 

He wiped his soiled glove on his pants, cringing slightly at how gross it was- he was wiping off bits and pieces of his own human tissue onto his work pants, after all.  Work pants. Ha. As if he even had a job anymore. A dead man with a reputation in shambles shouldn’t be having some kind of occupation besides being dead. 

The next big issue he took note of was the blood-colored sky, leaking into the windows and giving the small attic a very macabre look, in Goro’s humble opinion.

Akechi’s thoughts meandered for a bit before reaching something of importance- it looked like Mementos.  It took him a bit of time to catch up with his thoughts, he didn’t even remember what Mementos even  _ was _ for a bit.  Another drawback that comes with being dead, he supposed. His brain felt like cotton in his skull, fuzzy and useless. 

This wasn’t the Metaverse, this he knew with relative certainty.  It didn’t feel wholly like reality, but it didn’t feel exclusively like the other world either.  It felt like some combination of both, as if Mementos and the normal reality had assimilated. 

“What the hell…” he mumbled, voice hoarse from disuse and overuse simultaneously. He certainly didn’t do his voice any favors during his last fight with Joker. 

This only seemed to be getting weirder and weirder. Mementos and the real world have become one, and Akechi still doesn’t know how or why he’s alive again. 

The quiet, assuring hum of Robin Hood was still there in his head, but the whispers of Loki were much louder than usual. He could only guess as to why, given the residual insanity that still lingered in his veins. He clenched his fists to try and quell the sensation. Loki never quieted down, even if Akechi tried to shut it up. He wasn’t even sure if he was able to summon a Persona in this hybrid reality, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to try, either.  Akechi speculated that the strain of even summoning Robin Hood- let alone Loki- would tear his body apart easily, and he’d rather not risk it. He was already falling apart as it is. 

Wonderful. Having his death- his only real choice- overturned was already maddening enough. In conjunction with the rest of this bullshit that was happening, along with his inability to truly do anything, he was barely containing his anger. 

With a frustrated sigh, he took a seat on Akira’s bed. Blood still annoyingly trickled from the mangled mess of tissue that was once his chest, staining the white sheets. He’d have to clean that up later. 

Sleep tugged at his mind as he more or less flopped over to lay on the bed. He hadn’t noticed how incredibly exhausted he was feeling until now.  If he fell asleep now, Akechi wondered if he’d wake up again. Perhaps this was some cruel dream being placed on him by whatever shitty god or deity that was out there. He wouldn’t even be that angry if that was the case. Goro would only be simply acceptant of his status as a cosmic plaything. 

As his consciousness faded out, his mind was empty, thinking of nothing as the inky black nothingness of sleep took over. 

* * *

Bone-chilling fog lapped at his heels, the cold sensation waking Goro back up.  He awoke with an aggressive jolt, a far cry from the slow awakening he had just experienced in the attic. 

The first thing that he noticed was that this clearly wasn’t Leblanc. 

The metal he was sleeping on was unforgiving and rigid, waves of pain shooting from his back once he sat up. Not like the ratty old mattress in the dusty attic was much better, but at least it was something supportive. 

Glancing around this new location, it was hard to make out anything.  A thick fog impeded most of his vision, even as he tried to swat some of it into dispersing. 

Akechi heard chains dangling as he stood up, taking notice of the shackles now on his wrist. Yet, he was met with no resistance when he moved, so it seemed the chains and shackles weren’t attached to anything.  He yanked his left wrist forward with enough force to cause the chain to be shot forward and land at his feet.  It wasn’t very long at all, barely hitting the ground once he raised his wrist again.

The end of the chain was definitely not tethered to anything, but it didn’t look like it simply never was attached to something else.  It looked like the chains  _ had _ been attached to something, but were forcefully separated from the rest of the metal. Torn apart by something powerful, the cuts on the metal were perfectly clean and precise. 

Akechi took a step forward, the jangling chains being the only thing permeating the room’s foreboding silence.  He couldn’t help but be reminded of the Reaper, lurking deep in Mementos. He thought back on his time as the Black Mask, and his few encounters with the grotesque thing.  The times were semi-fond. It felt good to get somewhere in his ambitions down there in the dirty red of the Metaverse, and as much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed the praise he received from his employer.  Just thinking about the man made him bristle. 

Akechi hastily tried to push such thoughts out of his mind. The main concern lied with  _ what _ this place even was, not the myriad of mistakes that made up his life. 

The door to whatever odd jail cell he woke up in was already slightly ajar, along with being heavily rusted. He tentatively pushed the door slightly, wincing at the grating sound the metal gave in response.  His mind was foggier here than it was back in Leblanc, a fact that Akechi didn’t even think was possible. It took him minutes to process even the most minor of occurrences.  Ignoring the haze that crept into his head, he left the small cell and stepped out into the fog. 

Goro’s surroundings were completely indecipherable, the fog essentially opaque and blocking out the room. The only thing he was able to catch was the blue light that crept in from a place he was unable to see, giving the fog-filled room a cerulean glow. 

“Show yourself. Whatever brought me here, I’ll have you know that I’m not interested.”  The detective’s voice was a sharp hiss, impatience clawing at him. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to be playing cryptic little games. 

Another sensation was hitting him. A nagging sense of familiarity tugged at him weakly, like a dream one could only vaguely recall.  He was certain he’d never been in such a place before, but something was telling him that he was  _ supposed _ to have been here before, but he simply never made it. 

The abrupt sound of static snapped him out of his thoughts, head jerking around for the noises’ source. 

Akechi heard broken speech echoing through the room, although he was unable to make anything out. The voice, while heavily distorted, sounded akin to the voice of a child.  The message he’d gotten from all of this was abundantly clear. Something was trying to contact him, but seemed mostly unable to. 

The voice eventually went quiet, static ending as abruptly as it had started.  The ambient blue glow slowly shifted into a red one, the same blood-colored shade as the sky carried now. 

Akechi felt the floor swaying beneath him. He was already unconscious before his body hit the floor. 

* * *

He woke up as abruptly as he had in the jail cell, body trembling in a cold sweat. 

Akechi wanted to justify the experience as a mere dream, but whatever he felt right now was so undeniably real that he couldn’t write it off as just a conjuring from his mind. 

Inhale, exhale. He forced himself to follow the pattern, telling himself that internally.  Goro began taking stock of his surroundings again once his body had calmed down enough. 

Still in Leblanc, red sky bleeding in. Still alive. 

Sitting up with quite a bit of effort, Goro let his thoughts drift for a while, mind still fuzzy and dull. He began to hope that his body would eventually get used to the feeling of living once again, but wasn’t counting on that to happen. The intense tremors from moments earlier certainly weren’t doing him or his body any favors. 

A small flash of that same blue shade appeared in the corner of his vision, and his mind cleared for a brief second.

_ Where was Akira?  _

The simple question he should’ve asked a while ago flooded his mind, synapses firing once freed from their haze.  He hadn’t seen a single sign of his rival since he woke up, and this was where the frizzy-haired stayed.  Akechi’s eyes darted across the room again, seeing nothing but the same dusty attic he’d looked over so many times. 

His now-sharp mind picked up on chatter downstairs. It was indistinct, but there was a chance Akira was part of the noise. He didn’t waste another second, standing up from the bed forcefully, dashing down the stairs while he tried to ignore the way the room seemed to spin while he moved. 

Akechi more or less stumbled down the stairs, barely landing on his feet.  As he frantically searched the place with his eyes, he found no sign of Akira Kurusu. Only a few customers that Goro couldn’t care less for. 

The elder Sakura looked at him with a nonchalant gaze, as if he was expecting this to happen. 

“So, you’re up.” He said gruffly, glancing away from the boy with a hole in his chest as if it was nothing. Akechi reeled back from the casual treatment, as more crimson blood ran down onto the floor. Sojiro didn’t seem to mind.

“...It seems that I am.” Akechi sounded wary, yet did nothing to cover up the surprise easily detectable in his tone.  “I’m supposed to be dead, Sakura-San. Is there any reason in particular you were expecting me?” He spoke sharply and quickly, no longer seeing the need to play the role of the simpering Detective Prince. 

“I dunno. Ask the kid about it.” The man went back to idly wiping the counter down, dismissively waving his hand towards Akechi. 

It took Akechi a few seconds to process what Sojiro was telling him, not solely out of confusion. The mental sharpness he had moments earlier was gone, replaced by the annoying fuzziness that pervaded his mind previously.

“Do you know where he is? I have a few questions for him, ones that I highly doubt you can answer.” Akechi took a seat at the counter, the effort from walking down the stairs having already taken a lot out of him. 

Sojiro only shrugged. “He comes back a lot. Every 120 hours, usually, but it can change. Sometimes more, sometimes less.” 

The odd phrasing on Sojiro’s part made Akechi raise a brown eyebrow in confusion. Why ‘120 hours’, and not simply ‘five days?’ 

“..I see.” 

He absolutely did not see. None of this made any semblance of sense to him. Pressing the topic didn’t seem like a good idea, and he highly doubted he’d be getting an actual answer.  Everything around him being constantly cryptic was no doubt the name of the game now. Akechi mused internally about how wordy of a title that was.

Sojiro wordlessly placed a cup of coffee in front of Goro, not even sparing the detective another glance.  His shaking hands dropped the cup before he could even bring it to his lips, ceramic shattering on the counter.  The urge to slam his face onto the same counter was hard to ignore, but he just barely refrained. Akechi bit back a cursing remark too, only holding his tongue for the sake of the other customers that he didn’t even give a damn about. 

Gloved fingers rubbed his temples as the blood-red sky bled heavily into the cafe. The color was almost taunting him. He scowled at nothing and turned his eyes back to the counter. 

The television’s chattering captured his attention, as he felt his eyes look over to it. As if it was beckoning him to watch. 

“We have breaking news on the hospital connected with trafficking children’s organs. Several employees denied their involvement, contradicting their earlier statements.”

Akechi bit his lip while he watched the program. An awful story to be sure, and it seemed like it was to do with the Antisocial Force at that. Fuck, he had no idea that they were still active here. 

“A calling card was delivered, so it is speculated that the Phantom Thieves are at it once again.” 

His eyes narrowed at the screen, a bit bewildered. Mementos and reality were now one and the same, and this is what the Phantom Thieves were doing? Surely, they had bigger things to do. 

“And the police were fine with it too… We’re lucky to have the Phantom Thieves here.” 

Goro overheard the chatter between two of the customers, and listening in did seem like the best option to get some clues about whatever the hell was going on. 

“There’s no way the Phantom Thieves could be evil… they’re the ones who are going to save us.”

“The Phantom Thieves will bring us to salvation. We’ll just let them handle everything.” 

Akechi didn’t even bother to hide his scowl. He was a bit surprised at how idiotic these people were, chattering on and on about their precious Phantom Thieves.  He was getting sick of listening to these people mindlessly blathering on about the Thieves. Goro never did like hearing about them anyways. 

He heard Sakura give a gruff sigh beside him. 

“Hey, society’s become a nasty place. Do me a favor, and don’t get dragged into any of this.” 

Maroon eyes dimly looked at him, the irony so potent it was painful to endure.  Sojiro Sakura was talking to him like a friend. Getting all fatherly with Wakaba’s killer. In the back of his mind, Akechi wondered what the woman would have to say about that. 

All he did was give Sakura a nod, trying to take his mind off of everything to do with his past occupation.

“We should be glad to have the Phantom Thieves around. They’re the only thing keeping us going.” 

Sakura continued, continuing to glance at the television.

Akechi felt his blood run cold.  Nobody spoke of the Thieves like this before, even at the height of their popularity. There was never this sense of adoration, nor these fanatic and constant songs of praise. 

And along with Mementos now being a part of reality, the manifestation of the clamoring masses, easily controlled by anyone with enough power.. the connection wasn’t hard to make. 

Realization crashed into him forceful, harshly, unforgiving.  He stood up from his chair abruptly, the noise eliciting a few concerned looks from those around him. 

“Forgive me for this, Sakura-San. May I use your bathroom?”  A television smile was plastered on atop his shaking voice.

“Sure, go ahead.” The man behind the counter didn’t even look at him, and Akechi had headed inside the moment Sojiro gave him approval to do so. 

Akechi puked his guts out into the toilet as soon as the door was closed behind him. His body was trembling more forcefully than before, gripping the porcelain as tightly as he possibly could in this state.  It looked like coffee grounds. A sign of massive internal bleeding, but the detective couldn’t find it in himself to care about that. It was no wonder that he was bleeding internally, given the mess of himself that occupied where most of his chest used to be. 

The forceful realization never left his mind. Whatever the hell the world has become- was some disgusting clown show filled nothing but praise for some group of trash. 

The force of retching caused him to become an even bigger mess, tendons and veins and blood vessels all spilling out from the hole in his body. More crimson spilled down his ruined jacket, staining it with blood that never thickened. He could even feel an organ or two coming loose in the grand shuffle of body parts within him. 

Goro tried his best to block out the wholly unnatural sensations blossoming under his skin, as he wiped excess saliva and bile from his mouth.  He stood up woozily, collapsing against the wall almost immediately. After a brief couple minutes of doing nothing but leaning against the wall, he finally pushed himself up, quickly leaning over the sink as he gripped it on both sides. 

He gave a glance towards his reflection.  To say that he looked ‘awful’ was an understatement.

His skin was paper-thin with a diseased tint, heavy bags underneath his eyes. His pupils were shrunken, eyes glassy and haze-filled. Cheeks were sunken and thinned. Sweat was beading up on his forehead, giving his skin a sickly sheen. 

A gloved finger trailed down the mirror, as if to make sure that this was really his reflection. Akechi had never seen himself look this horrible before, even at his absolute worst. 

He was surprised that Sakura didn’t immediately call a fucking priest the sight of him. 

A low chuckle escaped his lips at how horrific his appearance had become.  All of this, after every hour he put in perfecting his appearance. He probably would’ve been upset if he wasn’t completely dumbfounded by the fact that what he was looking at in that mirror was in fact the face of Goro Akechi. 

With a tentative inhale, Akechi opened the door and stepped out. 

“You alright? You’ve been in there for a while.” Sakura looked back at him, his eyebrow raised in concern. 

“I’m fine. I simply have to.. take a walk, that’s all.” Goro tried his best to give Sakura a reassuring smile while his insides churned. He needed to find Akira, and find him quickly. Ask him about this, get some answers, and Akechi can be on his merry way to Hell, where he knows he should be right now. 

Perhaps it wasn’t. Death is a freedom for most, and Goro Akechi did nothing to deserve such freedom. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he wouldn’t be allowed to rest easy.

Footsteps quickly echoed against the hardwood floors, and the detective was gone from the cafe as fast as his trembling legs would allow him to go. 

As soon as he threw open the door, he winced at how harsh the red color painting the landscape was on his eyes.  There was no time to waste on things like that- Finding wherever Kurusu was took absolute priority. 

Akechi frantically ran through the backstreets of Yongen-Jaya, none of the residents giving the walking corpse of the Detective Prince a second thought.  He checked every place, every nook and cranny once, twice, three times. 

Nothing. No Akira, not a clue about where he could be. 

He wished he wasn’t so surprised by that. Most of his endeavors here have proven to be for naught.  Akechi had begun his shamefully fruitless walk back to Leblanc, before the artificial drowsiness bloomed in his head once more. 

He tried to fight it as much as he could, as he wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of him collapsing in the middle of the backstreets, but the dizzying drowsiness proved to be too powerful. 

The world around him spun, spun faster until all he could see was blurs and he felt himself falling. 

* * *

The ice-cold fog surrounding his body woke him up as it did previously.  As he pushed himself onto his back, it was clear he was brought back to the same blue-hued room from earlier.  He looked to be in the same spot where he collapsed last time, the original jail cell was a few feet away from where he lay. 

With a strangled noise of pain and exhaustion, Akechi scrambled to his feet. His eyes darted around the fog-filled room, before he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat in front of him. 

Akechi’s gaze landed on.. a child? He wasn’t quite sure who or what this person was, but she certainly didn’t resemble anyone older than eight.

“..Can I help you?” Akechi’s voice was completely free of any malice or bite, only confusion remained. Which seemed to be yet another constant in this world. He was overjoyed by that, the sense of never knowing what the hell is happening to you. 

Now that he was looking closer, something was wrong with this girl. Her form was translucent, edges fading out and glitching like she was coming from a poorly running projector. 

Her expression didn’t change. 

“Goro Akechi. I’ve called you here to my Master’s Velvet Room. I am sure you have a good reason as to why.” 

Something about this girl was strikingly familiar, despite knowing that he’d never laid eyes on anyone like this before.  Someone he was supposed to know, but never got to meet. Everything about this room was so distantly familiar.

“So, you know who I am.” Akechi murmured, rubbing his temples once again. His headache was returning. 

“Of course I do. I am here to help you, after all.” 

He bit back the urge to make an overly passive aggressive gesture to this girl. 

“Help me, huh.. then, who are you? I don’t recall asking for any sort of help.” 

A small, almost invisible smile appeared on the girl’s lips. 

“I am Lavenza. Welcome to the Velvet Room, Goro Akechi.” 


	2. but you've known it the whole time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi finally sees Akira after all this time.   
> It's worse than what he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter name is from what you know by two door cinema club.  
> sorry if the formatting is different this chapter, im posting it from a different device than the first one.

The Velvet Room, that’s what she called it? 

Akechi felt like he’d heard that name before. Everything about this was so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. It was getting to a point where it was pissing him off beyond belief.

“Lavenza-San, was it?”

Despite the girl looking much younger than him, he felt compelled to be somewhat respectful towards her. While the last thing he wanted was to be pitied by anyone, she was helping him through this situation. The least he could do was address her respectfully. 

“Tell me what this place is, if you don’t mind.” Akechi didn’t bother speaking like the Detective Prince, his words quick and to the point. 

“I don’t feel the need for pleasantries, and I’m sure you share the same sentiment.” 

Lavenza nodded in confirmation. 

“I agree with you, Goro Akechi. There is no need to idly talk when there are bigger matters at hand. My Master’s Velvet Room is a place that lies between dreams and reality.”

The small girl cleared her throat. 

“It can be entered by those who have formed a contract. You are one of those people.” 

Akechi shook his head, raising a hand to get her to quit speaking. 

“Surely, you’re mistaken. I’ve never signed a contract of this manner before.” 

“You are still a wild card. A contract with you was formed many years ago, when you first awakened.” 

Lavenza sighed. She looked genuinely regretful. “You were chosen by Yaldabaoth, the God of Control, the one meant to bring society to ruin and rebuild it from the ashes… the one chosen alongside my Trickster, Akira Kurusu. The both of you were meant to compete against each other, but…” 

The brunet stiffened as she spoke. This must’ve been how he got access to the Nav, and his Personas. 

And of course, Akira was meant to win. _Of_ _fucking course._ Akechi clenched his fists at his sides, trying to ignore Loki’s incessant whispering within his ears. 

Not a god’s chosen. He was more cursed by the god than anything else. 

“Kurusu was the one always supposed to win. I get it.” He cut the girl off, irritation dripping from his words. 

“It’s not as you think, Goro Akechi.” Lavenza glanced away, seeming shameful. 

“You were  _ supposed _ to have a chance to win. The God of Control broke his end of the deal, and took over my Master’s Velvet Room, locking you out of this place. I’m sorry for that, I deeply am.” 

“So I never really had a chance, did I.” Akechi’s voice was unnaturally quiet, so unlike his usual demeanor. 

“No. I suppose you didn’t.” 

The two were quiet, the tense silence hanging over them. It was only broken a few minutes later. 

“Well. Moving on from that, I’d like an explanation for all of this bullshit happening, please.” Goro flashed her one of his television smiles.

“Yaldabaoth has taken over this world using my Trickster. All of humanity is now trapped, unable to think for themselves.. all but you.” She seemed unfazed by the use of profanity on Akechi’s part. “He.. he fell to the temptation that the God of Control offered him.” 

“Kurusu-Kun did?” Akechi blinked, taken aback by this information. 

Akira Kurusu, the kindest, most annoyingly selfless person to ever grace this fucking planet, fell to temptation? That didn’t sound right, not at all. There was no way that it was true, but Lavenza didn’t look like she was telling a lie. 

“So he’s the cause of all this..” Akechi shifted his weight, crossing his arms. Just saying those words left a bad taste in his mouth. 

“It seems that is the case.. it was something even I couldn’t have predicted.” 

“I’m sorry to hear this, Exposition Machine, but until we can find Kurusu, we shouldn’t be standing around here moping.” Akechi drawled, words drenched in venom. 

Lavenza clucked her tongue, blinking. “Do you want my assistance or not? I had no idea you were going to be so difficult, Goro Akechi.” 

Akechi bit back another cruel remark. 

“Fine, then. Just tell me what you need, and quickly.” 

“Of course. I can only contact you in short periods of time- if the God of Control realizes that my consciousness can still reach you, he’ll kill me without a second thought.” 

Lavenza didn’t sound concerned once she said that, speaking of her death in the same airy tone she always used. 

“So time is of the essence here.” 

“Hm.” Akechi blinked. “Alright, then. Contact me whenever you please, although you could be a bit kinder about it-“ 

“No.”

“..Okay.” Akechi shook his head, sighing. “I’ll be on my way and look for Kurusu as soon as I’m out of here. Is that good enough for you, or am I not doing enough?” 

“It should be fine. I’m not quite sure what we have to do in order for reality to return to normal, but rest assured knowing that I’ll tell you once I learn.” Lavenza gave another half-invisible smile. 

“I’ll be seeing you later, then, Goro Akechi.” 

He rolled his eyes. “No need to get all sentimental, Lavenza-San.” 

“How’s this for not being sentimental?” 

* * *

Akechi woke up face-first on the concrete, cheek sore, most likely from when he fell. 

A small chuckle fell from his lips- that was pretty damn well-played on Lavenza’s part. 

He pushed himself off the ground, standing up and dusting himself off as well as he could with a hole still in his chest. As disgusting as it was, he was starting to grow accustomed to having the ruined flesh there. 

Tendons twisted with veins, blood vessels ruptured and popped with each breath he took. He considered that maybe he was adapting to this- however weird that was to fathom. Most people didn’t stay alive long enough to get used to gaping holes within their bodies. 

But of course, Goro Akechi probably wasn’t most people, even when he was still alive. 

The fuzzy feeling in his mind was clearing, but not fully gone. He doubted the hazy sensation would be completely gone anytime soon, much to his chagrin. 

With a heavy sigh, he began his walk of shame back to Leblanc. 

Everyone around him was talking about the Phantom Thieves. Every corner he turned, every step he took, all he heard was endless praise about the fucking Phantom Thieves. They didn’t even sound like people anymore, they sounded more like mindless ragdolls repeating the same damn words like a broken record, over and over. 

Phantom Thieves, Phantom Thieves,  _ Joker _ , Saviors of the world. Bringers of salvation. Apparently, the Phantom Thieves had become fucking deities during his brief stint with death, judging by the way people spoke of them. 

Akechi was almost about to completely snap once he arrived back at Leblanc. He’d never liked hearing about the Thieves much before, and this was worse by so much. 

The sounds of local children completely adoring and idolizing a group of trashy criminals had certainly rubbed him the wrong way. 

He opened the door with a still-trembling hand, stepping inside as Sakura looked over to him for a split second, but that’s not what Akechi was paying attention to.

Because there he was. 

Deep down, Akechi was probably expecting this. Where else would he be other than here? A part of him thought that this might be too easy, but it couldn’t be. There wasn’t any other conclusion. 

But Goro was expecting something different, expecting something grander, expecting something akin to a man who chose a false god, not the picture of perfect casual behavior that his rival was. 

Maybe Akechi shouldn’t have been expecting anything more. Even seeing him like this, leaning over the counter, staring at Goro, he was still the practiced picture of neutrality that he so commonly presented himself as.

His lips were quirked up into a small smirk. 

“You’re back awfully late.” 

“Akira…” Akechi breathed, absolutely shocked. 

He looked normal. Utterly plain from first glance, healthy and glowing and alive and- wrong, oh so wrong. 

Akira Kurusu never smiled like that. Akira Kurusu’s skin was never this pallid. Akira Kurusu’s eyes never looked that dark. 

Whoever this person was, he wasn’t Akira. No, it was nothing but a mere bastardization of the raven-haired boy. It had to be. 

“Are you just going to stand there?” A small laugh left his lips, light and airy and so fucking  _ wrong _ . 

Akechi parted his lips to speak, but no sound came out. The action only made Akira laugh even more.

“I’m not going to bite, Akechi. It’s just me.” And Akechi wanted to laugh now, too. Because it wasn’t ‘just him’. Nothing about this was anywhere close to normal, and he was already sick of Akira acting like it was. 

“May I speak with you, Kurusu-Kun?  _ Alone.”  _ His 

voice was seething, composure barely regained. 

He didn’t even wait for an answer as he grabbed Akira’s hand- it was freezing cold, so cold that Akechi could feel it through his gloves- and essentially dragged the other boy up the stairs. 

Akira was more or less thrown from Akechi’s grip, stumbling from the forceful shove he was given. He didn’t look like he cared very much. 

“You seem upset.” The joking tone that he used only served to piss Akechi off even further. 

“What the fuck did you do, Akira.” 

“Starting with the big one, then.” Akira hummed, turning to the window, still bleeding red. “I saved everyone. Now they can all lead happy little lives the way that they all wanted to.” His grin only grew as he looked back towards Akechi.

“They wanted to be controlled, and I gave that to them, out of the kindness of my heart. I really am a saint, huh?” 

A voice that distinctly wasn't Akira’s slipped into the black-haired boy’s words, quiet and deep, as a content sigh fell from his lips. “But I don’t expect  _ you  _ to understand. Someone who lost like that.. I shouldn’t even dignify you with a response.” 

“They all wanted to be controlled?” Akechi let out an incredulous laugh. “You don’t actually believe this, do you? After all of the things you’ve done, this is what you chose?” 

“That’s right.” Akira said, clapping his hands together. He seemed honestly ecstatic. “I’ve seen the heart of the masses. This is what they want. Everyone wants to be controlled.” 

He paused, stepping closer to his rival. “Even you. You seriously can’t tell me that after what you spent your life doing, you don’t want to be controlled by something.” 

Seeing Akechi’s offended reaction, Akira’s smile only grew. 

“It sure makes things easier, doesn’t it? To let someone else decide everything for you, so that it’s not really ‘your fault’ when the difficult decisions come?” 

“So you think that turning the entire world into nothing more than your puppets is truly what they all wanted?!” Akechi grabbed the collar of Akira’s blazer, gripping so tightly his knuckles were turning white beneath his gloves. “You’re completely delusional.” 

“Am I?” Akira looked utterly unbothered by what Akechi was doing. He looked bored, more than anything. “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen. Of course you didn’t- you weren’t meant to win.”

That damned voice still joined Akira's speech, growing slightly louder with every syllable the boy spoke. 

“I’ve seen the heart of humanity. I’ve heard what they yearned for. And I gave that to them. You should be thanking me.” 

Now that Akechi had gotten a better look at his rival, he was noticing just how much was wrong. Akira’s skin was so pale it was almost transparent- Akechi could clearly see the blueish-green tinted veins underneath the skin, making his entire body look marbled with veins and arteries.

It was garishly disgusting. He looked like a corpse. He looked worse than Goro did. Akira had looked better when his head was gushing blood like a faucet in that interrogation room than he did right now. 

Gold danced at Akira’s fingertips, coloring his pale skin with the hue. It looked artificial, fake, in the way something is designed to be ‘perfect’ but just can’t be good enough to deserve that title. 

Wiry wisps of the same golden color flitted underneath his skin, pulsating and giving the illusion of living, when there was no life there at all. 

Akechi had only noticed now, too, that Akira’s chest was completely still. 

Nothing about the boy before him was natural, or even of this world. 

Akira’s collar was released from the tight grasp- grip undone in shocked horror, as Akechi harshly shoved Akira away. He refused to look at this.. at this  _ thing  _ using Akira’s face, turning away as soon as he was able to. 

“It’s not my fault that you can’t handle the truth.” Akira’s voice teased, in a cruelly jesting tone that Akira had never, ever used before. Akechi wasn’t even aware Akira could sound like this, power-drunk and self-righteous. 

“Don’t tell me- that after everything Shido did, forcing you to kill like that for his praise- that you didn’t enjoy being controlled like that? It felt nice, right? To be used? To just sit back and let someone else make your choices?” Akira just wouldn’t shut up, and Akechi was tempted to make him. 

“You can deny it all you want, but I’ve seen things that you haven’t. So just stop lying and tell the truth. You enjoyed it whenever you followed his orders and did what he told you to do. You liked dancing in the palm of his hand just like that.”

Akira lazily threw his arms over Akechi’s shoulders, close enough to whisper in the brunet’s ear. 

“You really just wanted him to control you, didn’t you. You liked it.” 

It didn’t even take a second for Akechi’s hands to be wrapped around Akira’s neck, the raven-haired boy pinned against the wall. While Goro’s hands were still trembling, they held tight against Akira’s neck, squeezing absolutely nothing as there wasn’t any life within Akira anymore for Goro to take. 

“You should know that isn’t going to work.” Akira was being choked and still had the audacity to smile. He placed his hand atop Goro’s wrist lightly, the gesture would’ve been almost comforting if the situation wasn’t what it was. 

“Shut. Up. I don’t want to hear you speak another word.” Fury laced the brunet’s pointed words as his grip tightened, hoping to force out some kind of human-like reaction from Akira. 

It never ended up coming. His chest stayed stilled, his skin stayed pallid, his eyes stayed dark and dead. 

In a single quick motion, Goro was splayed across the floor, while his rival looked no worse for wear. Goro wasn’t even sure how Akira was able to knock him down like that, but he wasn’t given much time to think about it with the cold hands now squeezing around  _ his _ throat. 

an eye for an eye, as they say.

it was just retribution. a formality. 

His already-weak body struggled against Akira, but to no avail. He weakly kicked and writhed underneath the raven-haired boy, while Akira was rigid and unmoving. 

“I had no idea you’d be so weak once you came back. I’m honestly disappointed in you, Goro.” 

Any sound the brunet tried to make only came out as choked stutters as the hands wrapped around his throat grew tighter and tighter the more he struggled. Akira’s touch was bone-chilling, sending freezing shudders spasming through his rival’s body. 

Vision went white, thoughts grew blurry. The skin of his face was blanched and turning slightly blue at this point. 

His oxygen-deprived brain was already giving out. Akechi would be angry at himself for being so laughably weak if he wasn't already, well, preoccupied from dealing with this. More choked noises left his lips as his struggling grew weaker, limbs growing heavier. 

Gloves hands clawed at the floor as Akira’s grip somehow grew even tighter and Akechi felt his mind swimming and he realized this was probably where he was going to die again and it wasn’t fair it should’ve been Akira killing him not this facsimile of him because whoever this was it wasn’t the Akira he knew and he couldn’t even see the boy’s face anymore and he felt everything going completely black-

Oxygen forced its way back into Akechi’s lungs as he scrambled to all fours, coughing so forcefully that tears were springing up in his eyes. He felt blood pooling in the back of his throat. He didn’t know why.

After another round of particularly forceful coughing, he fell onto his back, limbs feeling like concrete rather than flesh. Akira stood above him with a smile, watching as Akechi tried to take in as many breaths as he could. 

“Remember, Goro.” Akira knelt down beside Akechi, taking the boy’s chin within his cold hand, his face mere inches away from Goro’s own. “I’m the only reason you’re here at all. Don’t be so ungrateful.” 

“Fuck you.” Akechi’s words were drenched with venom as he tried to wrench himself from Akira’s grasp. His body was too weak to do even that. “I hate you. Get away from me.”

Akira only laughed in response. “You’re so cute when you act like this. You’re lucky I’m merciful.” 

He pressed a quick freezing-cold kiss to Goro’s lips, leaving the other boy wide-eyed and shocked. 

Akechi was too far gone in his dizzied state of shock that he didn’t even notice Akira had left. Once he realized that he was alone, the brunet sat up and lightly grasped at his neck, already feeling the bruising that was forming on his skin. Even with the most gingerly of touches, the pain that radiated was almost unbearable- He flinched each time he touched his neck at all. 

* * *

That feeling of exhaustion clawed at his mind, the same one that meant Lavenza was about to contact him. But the sensation felt different this time, more intense, almost head-splittingly painful. Akechi didn’t even put up a struggle anymore. He was out as soon as he doubled over. 

Red danced across his eyelids, the same color as the blood-tinted sky outside. Maroon eyes jolted open, yet he was still too weakened to immediately stand up. 

This obviously wasn’t the Velvet Room.

He recognized this place immediately. Mementos. The pulsating, dirted walls, the ambience giving you the feeling that the entire place was alive. Akechi glanced down at himself, his attire was completely normal save for the whole in both his clothing and his flesh. 

Using the wall for balance, he shakily stood up. Lavenza was clearly nowhere to be found. This wasn’t her. 

He was getting honestly tired of this, being treated like some kind of personal pager, but he knew such a message had to be an important one. 

Still, did nobody know how to use a fucking phone anymore? A text would have sufficed, not some kind of cryptic dream message. 

Moving past his annoyance, he took another look around.

Well. This Mementos no longer existed, so it wasn’t like he was really there. It was another dream, another signal from another person- his suspicions fully confirmed. 

And seeing the strung-up body of Akira Kurusu a mere few feet before him, held hostage in the heart of Mementos, it didn’t take a genius to guess who was trying to talk to him. 

The raven-haired boy looked a lot better than he did when Akechi saw him last, admittedly. His pallor looked like it belonged on a living person rather than a month-old corpse, and the gentle rise-and-fall of his chest let Akechi know he was still alive. 

His skin looked pristine, untouched. Pure, looking like he was simply peacefully sleeping. 

His wrists and ankles were tightly bound with golden string, leaving the uniformed boy looking almost.. crucified. 

It was chilling to see, even if Akechi had just said that he’d truly hated Akira. Hate him or not, Akechi still didn’t want to see him like this.

Akechi’s body was moving on its own, taking step after step closer to Akira. Everything in his body was now completely involuntary, growing closer to the boy tied up before him.

Akechi stopped right in front of Akira, arm reaching out to place a gloved hand against the raven-haired boy’s chest.

The heartbeat was weak, but it was there. 

He stayed like that for a while, Akechi left wondering when his body was going to hurry up and do something other than stand there and place Akechi’s hand over the boy’s heart. 

He felt his hand retreating back to his side before it shot out again, this time plunging his hand straight through Akira’s chest. He felt muscle clinging around his hand, he felt himself getting wrapped up in all of Akira Kurusu’s veins and blood vessels as his hand wrapped around the boy’s heart.

Time seemed to slow around them both. Akechi was unable to move, or even show an expression other than blank neutrality. It felt like he was standing there -hand wrapped around Akira’s still-beating heart- for centuries. Nothing seemed real except for them. 

And Akechi’s arm shot back, taking Akira’s heart with him. 

He tried to squeeze his eyes shut, but was unable to do so. 

All he could do was watch as his hand stayed at his side, having removed the boy’s still-beating heart from his chest, his own body forcing Akechi to keep looking down at the pulsating organ within his hand. Akechi’s hand was drenched in black blood, dripping and staining the dirty floors of Mementos. He tried to scream. He tried to run away, but his body would not comply.

Maroon gaze drifted back up to the boy before him, black blood pouring like a faucet from the fresh wound in his chest. 

* * *

Akechi heard ringing in his ears, growing louder and louder and he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts as Akira’s heart still beat within his hand- 

There was no blood on him when he woke up, gasping for air like he’d been starved of it for years. His hand was completely empty. He could still feel the heartbeat if he concentrated enough. 

The only thing left was the sound of blood rushing in his ears and the word  _ Shibuya _ on his lips. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this chapter took actually forever since school kicked my ass and i was stumped on how to write the dialogue for this chapter so i. hope it's okay!!!  
> still need to work on confidence in my writing. wah.   
> thanks for reading though!!!


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